


Dwarven Charm

by Neyiea



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-10
Updated: 2014-06-10
Packaged: 2018-02-04 03:07:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1763699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neyiea/pseuds/Neyiea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is during their stay in Rivendell that Bilbo learns how surprising dwarrows can sometimes be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dwarven Charm

**Author's Note:**

> I can't resist prompts that involve hand-kisses, they are my weakness.

Both Thorin and Dwalin are madder than a pair of wet cats at having to linger, and though the other members of the company are fairing (slightly) better, time is wearing them down.

Even his own impeccable sense of decorum was rapidly crumbling. Or rather, had begun crumbling as soon as they'd been encircled by parading horses, and was near non-exsistent now, though he would deny unto his dying breath that he'd been anything but civil to the grass-eaters.

Coldly civil was polite enough, surely.

They stick together as a group, and they never wander off alone if they can help it. All except their burglar, who seems to be able to disappear and reappear at will. He'll join them for meals and rest, but the majority of the day is spent with him well out of sight, though not entirely out of mind.

Whenever he does rejoin them he tends to situate himself near Ori, and they will whisper amongst themselves before not-so-subtly exchanging books.

He doesn't begrudge them for their use of the elvish library, though he does wish that Bilbo wouldn't jaunt off to who knows where to read. Ori can manage just fine without being so much as a stone's throw away from Dori, after all.

It does occur to him that he could probably ask Bilbo to stick closer to the group, the hobbit seems to like him well enough and might listen to him, but on the off-chance that he takes Balin's request as some sort of implication that he can't take care of himself...

Well, he's just not willing to risk putting himself in their burglar's bad graces.

A week into their unplanned stay in Rivendell he and Glóin take a turn around one of the many sprawling outdoor gardens, less because they enjoy the aesthetic and more because Fíli and Kíli are becoming a little too much to handle and there's very little chance of them coming out here to cause a ruckus.

The chance of them stumbling upon Bilbo, who looks entirely at home sitting on a stone bench and surrounded by statues covered in ivy, is apparently very high.

He probably should have expected this, having seen the well-kept garden in front of the hobbit's house, but everything seems obvious in hindsight.

Glóin nudges him none-too-lightly and chortles under his breath when Balin gives him a warning look.

"I just remembered that I have some business with my brother. You'll be alright if I leave you alone for a while, won't you?" He turns and leaves before Balin can respond.

Seemingly oblivious to his surroundings, Bilbo reverently turns the pages of the book in his lap.

Well then, Balin tightens his gloves and straightens his coat, time to see if he could prove to be slightly more interesting than an elven novel.

"Good afternoon, Master Baggins."

Bilbo looks at him with a small smile. "Yes, it is." He casts a glance up at the sky and his lips take a wry turn. "I don't even think it will rain later."

Balin chuckles and settles down on the too-high bench beside him while Bilbo carefully marks his spot and closes the tome.

"You seem to be quite at peace in this place, if you don't mind my saying."

"Well," Bilbo glances around and lets out a heartfelt sigh that, under other circumstances, Balin might find charming, "my mother would tell me stories about the elves, and I was always fond of listening to them. I used to go out searching for them on summer nights when I was just a fauntling." He laughs to himself and reaches out to gently draw a finger along a leafy stem of ivy. "Plus you must admit, Rivendell has a very idyllic feel to it." He sighs again. "One might even go so far as to say romantic."

"Indeed?" He can't seem to keep the distaste from his voice and Bilbo's gaze flits his way, confused for a moment until he remembers the animosity he's witnessed more than once.

"I've always been under the impression that elves are, well, the most romantic race." Which is bad enough, but then he adds, "in all senses of the word," under his breath like an after-thought.

It is through sheer strength of will that Balin doesn't scoff at the notion. No need to get Bilbo angry and then have him start avoiding them on purpose.

"I'm sure elves have their own type of allure," not that he could see any, "but they don't hold a candle to dwarven charm."

Bilbo's expression goes carefully blank.

"Really?" There is so much doubt in his voice that, had Balin not been there to witness Bilbo's first impression of dwarrows, he might have taken offence. 

"Trust me on this, laddie. A rough-and-tumble race we may be, but we're also full of surprises."

Bilbo squints at the air above Balin's head, lips twisting as his attempts to link the words 'dwarven' and 'charm' together go unsuccessful. 

"I am sorry, Master Balin, but I just cannot picture it."

"I do not fault you for it, seeing as you've had very little exposure to dwarrows so far."

Bilbo opens his mouth, no doubt to mention that he's had _plenty_ of exposure, but his teeth shut together with a click when Balin takes his hand.

"Stick around a little longer, Master Baggins." He presses a lingering kiss to the hobbit's knuckles. "We may just astonish you yet."

The tips of Bilbo's ears go red and the flush steadily travels down to his cheeks while he moves his mouth as if he wants to speak, but can't manage to form the words.

Balin slips away with a grin, chuckling to himself and feeling decades younger.


End file.
